


Whatever's Left

by nebulein



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Broken Dean, Dark, Episode: s02e01 In My Time of Dying, M/M, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-23
Updated: 2006-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4089487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulein/pseuds/nebulein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the crash, after that truck ripped their world apart, Dean clings to the only thing he's got left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever's Left

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: don't own nothing, I'm just playing, please don't sue.
> 
> Remember that meme a few months back? Went like this: _Give me a song title. Any song title. It doesn't matter if I know the song or not. I have to write a fic or drabble based on that song title._ Well, here's what came out of that.
> 
> Written for luthien82 and the prompt "Whatever's Left by Snow Patrol".

Sam's fingers were fumbling for Dean under the sheets. His hands were ghosting over Dean's shirt, tracing the ripples and valleys of Dean's stomach. Lower and around until fingertips made contact with skin, warm and dry and electrifying.

_Sam._

Dean scrunched his eyes close, breath stuttering for a treacherous moment. It was dark, too dark to see anything but the rough promise of shades in the night. They didn't need light, shunned it, scared of what it might reveal. Sam's back was pressed tightly against Dean's, their legs interlocked, Sam's cracked lips moving endlessly against Dean's nape in silent prayer.

_Words said_

Sam pressed his toes up against the soles of Dean's feet and Dean answered, pressing his feet down into Sam's.

_and left unspoken._

They would lie like this, entwined together, inching closer, up to the point where the world started spinning in Dean's head, everything blurring into a whirl of shades of grey and the only focused thing left would be Sam, 

_(Sam Sam Sam)_

his hands on Dean, soothing, caressing, assuring. Dean let himself drown until all he could feel were Sam's hands carefully peeling away the layers; Sam shielding with his body what was left of Dean, giving him precious room to breathe for what felt like the first time in years.

Dean reached out and dug his fingers into Sam's thigh, holding onto the last thing he'd got left in the world. Sam choked back a grunt of pain and Dean could feel the muscles flexing in Sam's thigh. But instead of drawing away, Sam tightened his grip around Dean's waist and scooted even closer.

The only person he had left.

_Sam._


End file.
